Written as a birthday present for cmshaw. It's . . . um . . . Ray/Ray. And a crossover with Survivor. I did mention this was a birthday present, right? *g*

If You Were The Last Man on Earth
by Beth H.
(c) 6 December, 2003

***

Earlier in the series, tribes Fuhgeddaboudit and Thankyoukindly were merged into a single tribe, but not without the survivors encountering certain difficulties, beginning with Constable Turnbull's unfortunate coconut mishap and ending with Inspector Thatcher disappearing in the company of a particularly attractive shark. Tonight, in the penultimate episode, a shocking turn of events occured when viewer favorite, Constable Benton Fraser, was asked to extinguish his torch and leave the island.

"Great. Just fucking great! You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

Vecchio leaned back against the makeshift raft and closed his eyes against both the glare of the midday sun and the not-less-fierce glare of Ray Kowalski. "Benny knew how the game was played, Stanley."

"Don't call me that! You knew he wouldn't be able to vote either of us off the island."

"Yeah, I did. And so did you. If I hadn't voted for him, that would've been one vote for each of us, we'd have had a three-way tie, and you know he'd beat both our asses in any tie-breaker, even if he was trying not to win. I'm sorry, but Ma and the girls need the million dollars more than Benny does."

"Still think what you did sucks."

"Yeah, well . . . sorry if your plans for you and Benny getting to hole up in a tropical love shack have to take a backseat to my family's financial . . . ."

"What? What plans?"

"You think I don't know you wanted me gone so you could have Benny to yourself?"

Ray Kowalski stared at Vecchio. "You been at the fermented coconut milk again? Fraser and I are friends, but . . . ."

Vecchio opened his eyes a crack and raised one eyebrow, but didn't say a word.

"Okay," Kowalski said, blushing a little. "Maybe we had a thing going once upon a time, but not anymore."

Vecchio looked away, suddenly interested in the flight of a gull over the bay.

'Fuck. He . . . really did, didn't he? He told you."

"Yeah," Vecchio muttered.

"Why? Why's he going to all of a sudden start talking about shit like that? Why's he . . . ."

"Because I begged him to, okay? Because I'm a pathetic loser. Because I was snotting all over his shirt last night, telling him that I was going crazy thinking about you, and that I didn't think you'd ever . . . ."

"Be interested?"

"Yeah."

"And then he told you that we'd had a thing?"

Vecchio nodded.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Oh." Ray Kowalski said, flopping down beside Vecchio on the sand. A minute passed, then a small smile could be seen on his face. "And then he told you to vote him off the island, so that you and me could be alone."

"Yes, Kowalski. Now could you just shut the fuck up about it and leave me alone? I already feel like enough of a moron."

"You got some big mouth on you, Vecchio. Not a very nice way to talk to your future . . . whatever."

Vecchio's head jerked up. "Huh?"

Kowalski grinned. "Lucky for you I got 'good conversationalist' way down below 'good cop' and 'nice ass' on my wish list, 'cause otherwise no way you'd come close to making the cut."

Vecchio gave him a tentative smile in return. "So. You want to head over to the . . . "

" . . . tropical love shack?"

"Yeah."

"I'll join you there in a minute. First I gotta pay a little visit to Jeff Probst, just to let him know if I see a camera within a mile of us, someone's getting kicked in the head."